A Black Fox and a Reminder to Let Go

Accept the flow.

©2026 T. Agnew

When I saw her, dawn had ignited a faint line along the trees, an amber glow that punctured the darkness and sliced the horizon in half.

She floated across my path like a shadow, a charcoal smudge on a canvas, her fur and puffy tail darker than night. She moved like a whisper, sifting through the forest as though an unseen wind had scattered her charcoal dust through the trees.

After she vanished into the morning canopy, it was as though the darkness had absorbed her.

I stood silently on the rocky precipice, listening to cardinals serenade the forest, processing what I had just experienced.

I felt the same sensation after — a tabula rasa — as though my consciousness was reset, when I first saw the Northern Lights on the coast of Maine, and when a red-tailed hawk had visited me more than once in this same canopy.

The novelty of the hawk's visit was her candor. She flew to the rock I sat upon and perched just feet from me. 

It was that sensation now, that awareness that something magnificent had occurred, that what I had experienced was not just a hawk or a fox, but something far more profound.

Across East Asia, foxes carry vast allegorical weight. Chinese fables describe the huli jing (black fox) as a god-like being changing form and transcending earthly limits, while Japanese tradition portrays the kitsune as a sly, celestial guardian with the potential to alter its appearance.–Google 

Could this be Ramachandran’s model of perception, where the left brain’s function is of perceptions and not reality? We often create stories in our minds to fit a narrative outcome.

Yet, Aristotle influenced the phrase everything happens for a reason. He theorized events occur for specific functions, and every occurrence serves a purpose by contributing to an individual’s personal development.

To be certain black foxes even existed in Georgia, I investigated.

Melanistic red foxes, which are all black, occasionally occur in North America, and these unique black foxes make up .01% of the fox population. Seeing one is unusual and possibly a once-in-a-lifetime event.

Once-in-a-lifetime event.

What was the meaning of seeing a black fox? Was something about to occur in my life? Was it a bad omen? It certainly didn't feel like one.

As many of us often do in search of meaning in our lives, I sorted the external things I had no control over, the unchangeable things I might somehow change.

The Stoics said that a predetermined set of events is universally out of our control. The philosophical concept Amor Fati (love, fate) tells us to accept these events instead of the expected outcome we might have preferred.

Instead of looking inward for the explanation of the fox, I erroneously looked at external elements that orbited my life — the issues I cannot change.

The black fox reminded me.

Seeing a black fox often symbolizes hidden knowledge, intuition, the shadow self, and a need to trust inner wisdom.

In my Buddhist studies, I’d forgotten one of its core principles: anupada, accepting the natural flow of life.

To regain clarity, I called my friend, a former Tibetan monk who teaches at a temple in Florida.

“Ah, you witnessed a remarkable spectacle. Your shadow self,” he said.

“I realize that now. But I misplaced anupada.”

“Remember, anupada is freeing attachment to expectation and desire. To control the past or future is only an illusion. Do you recall the concept of dukkha (suffering)? We must embrace the reality of anicca (impermanence).”

“Yes, accepting the natural flow of life instead of forcing situations. Instead of focusing on cultivating inner peace and controlling my reactions, I confess I’ve been struggling,” I told him.

“But the fox has reminded you.”

It was true. We endlessly chase the things we want, forcing outcomes, often becoming entangled in emotional vitriol.

We forget to settle, to stop struggling, to breathe, and allow all the external noise to exist outside our periphery.

We cannot cease the noise, but we can allow it.

My shadow self told me.